


In These Hands

by Verasteine



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verasteine/pseuds/Verasteine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sundays are for the domestic stuff neither of them has time for during the week.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	In These Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks muchly to [](http://blackbird-song.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://blackbird-song.livejournal.com/)**blackbird_song** for the super-fast beta. This is what happens when I say, "hey, self, let's see what happens when I open up a document and randomly start writing domestic fluff." Enjoy.

It's the quiet mornings, it's always the quiet ones, when the sun shines merrily and the tide is softly receding, that Steve wakes before Danny. Danny sleeps like a log on weekends, like he unconsciously knows he won't be disturbed, and Steve has had light sleeping trained into him by the Navy.

He makes his way downstairs, turns on the kettle and fills the coffee maker before finding the bread in the freezer and dropping it in the toaster. He looks out at the waves sliding onto the beach, considers taking a dip after breakfast that isn't about keeping fit, stores the idea in the back of his head while slathering the toast with butter and strawberry jam when it pops up.

He pours a mug of tea and then one with coffee, carries the latter up with the plate of toast, and deposits it on the side furthest away from Danny so he won't tip it over upon waking up. This is a lesson learned from past experience.

He detours past the spare bedroom, where the laundry is drying, and picks up a pair of board shorts before heading back down to enjoy his own tea and toast.

\--

When Danny wakes, it's to the scent of coffee drifting gently across the room and making it a pleasant morning. He opens his eyes and groans at the bright light, flails out a hand to find his watch and hits the nightstand with his knuckles. "Fuck, ow!"

He shakes it off and finds a watch (Steve's, but who cares) to discover it's a little past ten, and struggles up to reach over to the other side for the mug of coffee that is warm and blissful and perfect.

He trained Steve well, he thinks, and sniggers at his own joke.

There's toast sitting on a plate next to the mug, bright red condiment slathered across it, making Danny's mouth water. He tugs the plate towards him and bites into crisp toast, melted butter, and gooey, sweet strawberry jam.

Life is kind of perfect today.

\--

The ocean is blessedly cool, feeling good against his skin, the rushing of the water in his ears the only sound Steve needs. He ducks under the crashing waves, feels the gentle tug of the receding currents, lets it pull him along before fighting it.

When he surfaces again, he's a good way out from the shore, and he simply drifts, bobs along the waves for a bit, periodically swimming against the current so he doesn't drift out too far.

When he heads back in, he can see Danny on the lanai, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Danny smiles as he comes closer. "Hey, babe."

"Hey, yourself." He leans in to kiss Danny, who squints against the sun as he looks up, returns the kiss gently.

"You take a dip for old times' sake?"

Steve frowns, unsure of his meaning. "Something like that."

"I swear, sometimes I think I should be jealous of the ocean."

"Very funny."

Danny grins, proud of himself in a way only he can be, satisfied and happy.

"I'm gonna hit the shower," Steve says. "I'll be back in a minute."

Danny waves a hand at him. "Take your time."

It makes Steve smile as he climbs the stairs.

\--

Danny stretches his legs so the sun tickles at his feet without warming up any other parts of him. This is exactly the right ratio of direct sunlight to shade on Danny's skin, so it works out perfectly. He enjoys his second mug of coffee, enjoys the feeling of the slower, second kick of caffeine of the morning, keeping an ear out for the sounds of Steve moving around the bathroom.

It takes a little longer than usual. Danny smiles again; Steve doesn't know it, but Danny's working on an incentive programme to wean him off of his ridiculously un-luxurious shower habits.

Some things just have to be broken.

When Steve stumbles back downstairs, not entirely graceful, skin still flushed from the hot water, he's only wearing shorts, and Danny's brain short-circuits before restarting. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, but there's something about Steve in his natural habitat, casual and half naked and not on display, that makes Danny's blood rush that much faster.

He swallows before speaking. "Come here."

"Hmmm?" Steve wanders over while scratching at the back of his neck, leans in when Danny tugs him down, and returns the less than innocent kiss that Danny bestows on him with equal enthusiasm. He blinks, once, twice, seems to get the focus back in his eyes and says, "Later, okay?"

"Sure," Danny replies easily. He's in no hurry; Steve is a given and this day will last.

\--

Sundays are for the domestic stuff neither of them has time for during the week, so Steve mows the lawn and clears out the gutters and Danny runs another load of laundry and changes the sheets. He comes back out of the house, apparently cooled off enough by wrestling with wet clothes, because he drags his favourite chair off the lanai and into the sun before falling into it. "Remind me we need to add detergent to the shopping list," he says.

Steve grins at him. "Yes, dear."

"Don't you start with me!"

Steve keeps smiling at Danny's pointed finger, and Danny turns it into a hand wave. "Go get me something to drink."

Steve raises an eyebrow at him but obliges, heads inside to pour them both glasses of iced tea. Condensation is running over his fingers before he gets back outside, and he wipes his hand on Danny's t-shirt before dragging over his own chair and sitting down next to him. Danny slaps at him.

"Animal," he grumbles.

"You should be grateful I'm at your beck and call," Steve grumbles back.

"Yeah, yeah. I appreciate you." Danny closes his eyes and basks in the sunshine, and that's a rare enough opportunity that Steve turns in his seat to watch him, relaxed and stretched out, t-shirt tight over his chest and shoulders, and Steve knows he'll never tire of this, of Danny.

"I can feel your creepy gaze," Danny says before he cracks open an eye.

"What, looking at you is creepy now?" Steve hears the hint of defensiveness that snuck into his own voice, but he can't stop himself. "That's kind of weird, D."

Danny switches his glass to his other hand before reaching out and running damp fingers over Steve's arm. "Okay, babe."

Steve tangles their fingers together.

\--

Steve wakes him when he drifts off, shadow falling over his face as he shakes Danny's shoulder. "You gotta move to the shade, Danny, if you want to sleep."

"Huh," Danny replies, but nods. "Yeah, thanks." He manages to lever himself up from the chair, drags it with him back to the lanai and settles back in. He feels Steve's hand on his shoulder, fingers squeezing before sliding down his arm and away, and he smiles. "You should..." he starts, but then can't remember what he wants to say, and it doesn't matter anyway.

\--

Danny's out before he finishes his sentence, and Steve watches him sleep. It's always amazing how much Danny can sleep, like he hoards up a sleep debt during the week and catches up on the weekend.

Steve lets him, heads inside to go take a look at the leaky faucet in the guest bathroom. It's nice to work with water and steel at the hottest part of the day, stay indoors and be useful, and when he's done and has found and replaced the faulty O-ring, he finds Danny in the kitchen, staring into the fridge as if it has all the answers. "You okay there, Danny?"

Danny glances over his shoulder. "Oh, hey. Yes. Just pondering the options for dinner."

"Why, you cooking?"

Danny scratches at his chin, closes the fridge door and turns around. "I thought I might."

"Huh," Steve says.

"What is this?" Danny gestures at him. "Is this your way of telling me you don't have any faith in my cooking? Or is this your _subtle_ way of implying I'm not carrying my weight around here? I'll have you know you normally eat my cooking just fine."

Steve blinks in the face of this rant and waits it out. "You done?"

Danny makes a twirling motion with his hand. "Yes. Yes, I am done. You may answer."

"Thank you," Steve replies with as much sarcasm as he can. Then adds, "I wasn't telling you anything."

"Of course not." But Danny's already smiling, the spurt of irritation that fuelled him gone. "So, pasta salad? We have leftover salmon from Friday."

"Sure." Steve shrugs, but then Danny comes over and kisses him, a soft, gentle touch that is as much _I'm sorry_ as _hello, I noticed you were here_. It's taken him a while to learn what they mean, but he's used to Danny's kisses now.

\--

Danny whistles a Bon Jovi song under his breath as he cuts up the vegetables for dinner. Pasta is boiling on the stove and the salmon is cooking under the grill, and somewhere out there, he hears the sounds of Steve's fingers on the keyboard of his laptop, a reassuring noise that keeps him from turning on the radio just so he can keep hearing it.

He dumps the crisp lettuce into the bowl, hears Steve swear in the background, and wipes his hands on a dishtowel before heading out of the kitchen and into the study. "Babe?"

Steve's hair is standing up on one side, as if he scrubbed his hand through it, and Danny thinks he looks adorable. He refrains from saying anything or from going over and smoothing it down. That should wait till later, he's learned.

"Fucking bank," Steve grumbles, frowning at the screen like it's at fault. "They cancelled the automatic payments."

"Why?"

Steve looks up, eyes tight in a way Danny doesn't like. "They bounced because of the credit card bill from last month and now I have to do them manually and I wound up with double payments. What the hell?"

Danny comes around the desk, pushes at Steve's shoulder until he moves out of the chair and sits down in front of the computer. He brings up the account history, checks the automatic payment section, cancels the individual entries for this month, and returns to the overview page. "Done."

Steve throws up his hands. "How do you-- I don't even want to know. This stuff is not designed for normal people."

Danny grins. "You haven't lived among us mortals as long as I have, babe." He relinquishes the seat to Steve again, waits for him to sit before running his fingers through Steve's hair and righting it to its normal state. Steve leans in, rolls his head back to look at him, and Danny smiles. "I'll go finish dinner."

\--

Steve watches Danny leave the room, rolls his shoulders to get rid of the tension and reaches for the phone bill. He hears Danny whistle under his breath, off key, something rhythmic and pointless and probably from New Jersey, and smiles.

As he clicks 'send' for the payment, he hears Danny open the oven door, pull out the tray, and say, "Look at you, didn't you turn out nice!"

Steve abandons the bills, logs out of the banking system and follows his instincts to the kitchen, where Danny is draining the pasta. "Hey," he says softly, and Danny glances over his shoulder.

"Hi," he replies, and for a moment, Danny kind of takes Steve's breath away.

Then everything resumes again, and he says, "Wanna eat out on the lanai?" and clears his throat when he hears his voice is rough.

"Yeah," Danny says, frowning at him because Danny has always been perceptive.

"I'll go lay the table." Steve pretends he isn't sort of escaping the kitchen, pretends it's the heat from the cooking that drives him into the cool breeze, but he knows better. When Danny brings the salad bowl outside, he trails a hand over Steve's back, and he knows he isn't fooling Danny, either.

He straightens up, and Danny kisses his shoulder. Steve turns his head to kiss him back, pulls him in close for a moment. Danny smells like food, kind of delicious, and he's hungry enough for that to make him pull back. "Food first?" Danny says, as if reading his thoughts.

Steve laughs. "Yeah."

Danny leans in for one more kiss before swatting him on the ass and heading back into the house.

"Hey!" Steve yells, and hears Danny laugh in reply.

\--

The food's nice and the breeze coming in from the ocean, coupled with the sun's rays being slightly less fiery, makes it a pleasant meal. Steve is smiling, looking relaxed and happy in a way that makes Danny's heart miss an occasional beat, makes Steve a promise for the evening rather than just a presence, and it's good.

He takes a drink of his Longboard, considers kissing the same tastes off Steve's lips later. When they're done, Steve stands to gather the plates and puts them in the sink. Danny listens to the sounds, listens to running water and Steve humming under his breath and the quiet "fuck" when he drops a spoon that plops back in with a splash.

Danny finishes his drink, carries the bottle back in to put it with the glass, and looks at Steve, flushed from the steam coming up from the sink, suds on his chest from the dropped spoon.

He's just utterly, stupidly beautiful.

Danny tries to tear his eyes away, but it's impossible and he doesn't really want to, can feel the moment Steve senses it and meets his gaze. Danny clings to that, to the expression in Steve's eyes, to the way Steve goes soft and quirks a small smile at him.

Steve looks away, finishes washing the last plate and puts it away, shuts off the water and reaches for a towel to dry his hands. Danny waits until he's done before stepping in, crowding him against the kitchen counter and kissing him.

\--

Steve returns the kiss, softly at first, then pulling Danny in closer and deepening it. He feels the cotton of Danny's shirt stick to his damp chest and he wants it gone, reaches down to pull it up and away.

"Neanderthal," Danny murmurs under his breath, but helps in removing it and comes straight back into Steve's embrace when he's done.

Steve laughs quietly before kissing Danny again, before running his hands up Danny's back and over those shoulders, thick cords of muscle that shift under his palms. He pulls away from Danny's mouth, bites at his neck, licks the thin layer of sea salt off his skin.

"Trying to eat me now, huh?" Danny says, apropos of very little, and Steve laughs some more, feels stupidly _good_ for having this.

It makes him start, abruptly, stop and start again, and he pulls back to look at Danny for a moment.

"What?" Danny says. "I love you, too, babe, I do, I promise."

"Yeah," Steve replies nonsensically, "no--"

"No? What do you me--"

Steve puts a finger to Danny's lips because this matters, because Danny has to be quiet for a few seconds so he can find the right words. Danny kisses his finger, a light press against his skin, and Steve finally says, "You make me happy, Danny."

\--

"I--" Danny reaches up to pull Steve's hand away, feels a ridiculously sappy grin creep up on his face. "I'm glad, Steve. You goof."

His heart's beating in his chest, painful against his rib cage, and Steve frowns for a moment. Danny pulls him down, pours into the kiss what would take way too many words to explain right, and Steve's mouth opens up under his. As the kiss slows, he murmurs, "I mean it, Danny, I wasn't just saying it, I--"

Danny pulls back, looks him in the eye. "I know. I know you, okay?"

"Yeah." Steve smiles, face lighting up with it. He leans back in to tease Danny's mouth, licks at it before wandering away. Steve is like that, always following his bliss, like there's all these different choices and he can't choose what he wants to do first.

Danny tilts his head to let Steve nose at his hair, snorts when Steve licks an ear.

"Come on," Steve says, voice low. "Come on." He finds Danny's hand, tugging as if they're teenagers, but Danny follows anyway, lets himself be led upstairs. Steve strips his shorts off, and that's how simple it is for him to be naked on days like these, and Danny swallows hard before remembering to follow his example.

Steve reaches for him, settles his hands on Danny's hips, slides them up his back, digs fingers into Danny's shoulders. It's a familiar dance and a thrill every time, and Danny says, "How do you want this, hmm? What's on your mind?"

Steve smiles, private and promising. "Just your hand."

"Oh yeah?" Danny squeezes Steve's bicep to feel him shiver under his touch. He feels a wave of pride for being the only one to get Steve like this, the only one Steve does this with.

"Yeah." Steve breathes out on the word, like a rush of air being knocked out of him, and ducks his head to kiss Danny again, sweetly until it's not.

"Bed," Danny says against his mouth, "because you might want the simple things, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to make it good."

\--

Steve shudders a second time, feels unsteady on his legs for a second. Danny can make him crazy and the problem is that they both know it, and it's good and amazing and really intimidating at the wrong times.

He stretches out on the bed, though, sees Danny look, watch his fill, and it makes him grin and reach out a hand until Danny joins him, eyes wide and reverent. "Babe," is all he says, and Steve pulls him in, feels Danny's hands settle on his skin, making him close his eyes at the electrifying touch.

Danny kisses him and he kisses back, loses himself until everything recedes; the waves outside, the calls of the birds, the cotton against his skin. He gets lost in Danny's mouth on his jaw, down his neck, over his chest until Danny bites at a nipple and Steve's eyes fly open. "Jesus, Danny."

Danny laughs, licks, kisses, then sucks on the offended skin until Steve's nerve endings are on fire. He threads his hand in Danny's hair, can't bite back the soft groan that fights its way out of him.

Danny lifts his head, reaches over to the nightstand, comes back with lube. "Gonna do this the right way," he says again, and then, "Think you're ready, hmm?"

"Yeah." Steve is more than ready, cock hard against his belly, and Danny wraps a slick hand around him, strokes up his full length. Steve's eyes fall shut again; it's just this good. Danny knows just how much pressure to use, knows how Steve likes it; a sure grip, long strokes, slow and smooth.

"Hey, look at me, babe." Danny's voice is tender, coaxing, as if Steve needs to be coaxed, but he opens his eyes anyway, manages a half lidded gaze at Danny. "You gonna come for me, Steve? Hmmm?"

He can't help himself, pushes up into Danny's grip at those words, and Danny smiles, squeezes before adding a twist. Steve has to struggle to keep his eyes open, it feels like the air is being sucked out of his lungs as he chases the rush Danny's creating, chases the feeling and the bliss until it knocks out of him, hard, and he pulses over Danny's hand, slowing down as Danny pulls him through it in long, good strokes.

His eyes slide shut as he catches his breath, floating for a few seconds until Danny leans in, licking a long stripe up Steve's cock while he's still hard, cleaning him up with his mouth until Steve shivers all over.

\--

Steve is languid and slow, the shivers dying down as he comes off the high, and Danny leans in to kiss him, once, twice before Steve opens up and lets him in, slides a hand up into Danny's hair. He pulls him close and Danny settles half on top of him, rubbing his own hard-on against Steve's thigh.

"Hey, Danny."

"Hmm?"

"Anything I can help you with?" Steve looks ridiculously proud of his own joke, he sniggers a little, and Danny considers punching him and decides it wouldn't be fair. Fucked stupid is way too good a look on Steve.

"Now that you mention it, Steven..."

"Come here," Steve says, and actually does the opposite; rolls Danny off him and onto his back before straddling his legs and leaning in. The first touch of his mouth to Danny's neglected cock is perfection, it's heaven, it's so good; it pulls a soft groan from of Danny's chest, and he reaches down to tangles his hand in Steve's hair. The strands slide through his fingers as Steve moves his head up and down, taking him deeper each time, and yeah, Steve is good at this.

Danny reaches out for the second pillow, props it up behind his head so he can watch Steve do this, his very own porn film brought to life. His dick is sliding in and out of Steve's warm, hot mouth, perfect slick suction and Danny feels it building at the base of his spine, heat pooling and coiling until he can't hold off any more. "Babe," he says in a raw voice, and Steve hums at him.

Danny's done for at that, spends himself in his partner's mouth, barely able to keep himself from pushing up, and Steve grabs his hip and holds him down through it until Danny collapses.

Steve sits up, wipes his mouth, smiles in a very satisfied way, and announces, "I like Sundays."

Danny bursts out laughing. "Get up here, you goof."

Steve crawls up his chest, lets himself be kissed, pulled in and tucked against Danny's side, post-sex languidness making him malleable in a way he never is otherwise. "God, I love you," Danny says, kissing the top of his head, and Steve looks up.

"Love you too, Danno."

"Shut up," Danny says, and pulls him back down.

\--  
 _finis_.


End file.
